A woman on her way to St. Paul really got the goat of auto repairman James Prusci. She went to Tires Plus in Winona Friday, wanting a belt replaced on her Chevy Malibu. While he was doing paperwork, she said she had a goat in her trunk. "A what?" he asked. She told him she planned to butcher it.

It was painted Minnesota Viking colors — purple and gold — with Brett Favre's No. 4 shaved on its side. Favre made his Vikings debut Friday in a preseason game.

Prusci called animal control, which took the goat to a local vet. He was renamed Brett and placed in foster care.

Animal control officer Wendy Peterson said Monday the city attorney was reviewing the case for possible citations.

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crista, were you planning a formal protest or what?

Um. roadriverrail points out, via the community the_recession, that Sweden has just set new interest rates.

New negative interest rates.

They're charging people money for the privilege of keeping their money in the banks.

This happens in a week. Original data here. The money(!!) quote is: The deposit rate is at the same time cut to -0.25 per cent and the lending rate to 0.75 per cent.

Some commentary here.

I hope I'm wrong about this, BUT...

I do believe that if either Obama or Clinton receive the Democratic Party nomination, then the next President will be a Republican.

I am pretty sure that this country, overall, is both too racist and too misogynistic to elect either a black man or a woman as President.

I don't normally make political predictions so far out in advance, but this isn't a political prediction I'm making, it's a sociological one.

The weather out here has, so far as I can tell, been smokin' on a big fat joint and interspersing that with occasional hits of cocaine. Most of the time it's just low energy, cloudy gray drizzly days that make the world want to get back in bed and pull a pillow over its head, and then sometimes BAM! rainstorms that are marked with dazzling displays of lightning, ear-rattling thunder and rain pouring down so hard it hurts to be underneath it, it'll pierce your skin and and make you cry.

The weather is a perfect metaphor for the lives of almost everyone I know, especially their love lives. Maybe it's something in the air here right now. Relationships are looking cloudy, drizzly, low energy and gray, with occasional lightning strikes that leave behind scorched earth and a pile of smoldering ashes. This isn't everyone, mind you, but it's a surprisingly high number, and more than a little scary.

Sometimes it's no one's fault. Sometime's it's someone's fault, but what to do? They're doing what they think they have to do. Some of you I want to hug, others of you I want to bitch-slap and say "what are you thinking?? Are you thinking? WAKE UP!"

But I'm not going to do that. Well, I am going to hug a few of you, and I'm going to butt in and offer private, unasked-for advice to one of you and really hope that it doesn't harm our friendship. (I know Dear Abby would advise otherwise, but, y'know, I haven't asked her.) And I'm going to offer my best wishes and my friendship and my shoulder and my spare room and my library and meadow and my quiet space to all of you who are hurting. This, too, shall pass.